Judy Penncroft lay on her back, savoring the soft, silent morning. The weight of Mark, her husband, pressed the double bed mattress down beside her, rolling her slightly towards him. She thought of that pressure and warmth being missing, of the bed being empty, and winced at the gut-twisting stab of pain this thought brought.
Resolutely, she forced her mind away from the dread possibility that was rapidly becoming a certainty. Instead she told herself to be glad that Mark was sleeping quietly for a change. Sometimes, more and more rarely, there was the perfect combination of circumstances needed to give him total peace. Either physical or mental agony almost always kept him twisting and turning restlessly in a sweaty tangle of sheets.
Or, what was even worse, he would lie there rigid, his muscles knotted and straining as he wrestled silently with his torment.
As Judy slipped silently out of bed, twinges of pain reminded her of one of the reasons for Mark’s tranquil sleep. The bruised ache in her shoulders was mute evidence of the power of his grasp on her the night before. In her crotch, on the insides of her thighs and her pubic hair, was a dry, tugging, crusty feeling.
In the shower, Judy felt the mild bruises, the stiffness, the dried semen all dissolving away. It was a sad feeling. Flinching away from that train of thought, she recalled how it had all begun.
As she passed Mark’s chair with the last coffee cup, his arm snaked out, grasped her around the waist and hauled her down on his lap, squealing and giggling. The cup and saucer went flying and bouncing across the floor in a clattering testimony to their durability.
“Mark!” Judy protested.
With a growl of mock ferocity, Mark gripped the sides of her pretty face, twisting her head, his fingers tugging through her short black hair. His lips met hers in a savage, primitive kiss. His tongue drove between her lips, wedging her teeth open.
Even as she felt her passion boiling upward, Judy pushed defensively against her husband. Her hand slipped down his arm and touched the bandages and the hard plastic tubes jutting from his flesh. She jerked her hand away as if she had been burned.
She felt Mark’s grip on her change, felt his tongue retreat from her mouth, felt his muscles go rigid. Desperately, before he could escape, Judy forced her tongue to follow his, to drive into his strong mouth.
Twisting her torso, she ground her small, firm breasts against his hard chest. Her petite body writhed in his lap in a primitive dance of desire as she rekindled his faded passions.
The quivering tautness of his muscles changed slowly into the soft but more demanding grasp of sexual need, and Judy’s desperation relaxed and became genuine lust. With her arms engulfing his head and neck, she snuggled herself deeper in his arms as their mouths worked and mingled in a sucking, devouring kiss. His hand slid from her back around her side, stroking the sweeping curve of her rib cage, then cupping and molding to one of her gentle breasts.
Heat built in Judy, sweeping through her. She responded to the warm grasp on her breast by pushing against it, arching her spine and twisting. Her bare legs twined sensuously as the crotch of her shorts bunched up against her pussy. Under her firm bottom she could feel the sturdy lump of Mark’s cock hardening and thrusting at her eagerly.
Releasing her breast, Mark hooked his arm under her legs. With an easy heave, he lifted her and stood up, spinning her giddily as he headed for the bedroom. As always, the display of masculine power thrilled Judy. She clung to Mark’s sturdy neck, her head on his shoulder as he carried her down the short hall to their bedroom.
Mark slammed the door behind him with an easy kick of one foot, carried her to the bed, and dropped her from three feet up. Breathless from the suddenness of it all, Judy bounced wildly once, then lay still. She was boiling inside, burning up with sexual need. But all she could do was lie there on her back, waiting for him, her arms out to her sides, one leg bent gracefully.
As she lay there, she studied Mark as he stripped off his clothes.
Resolutely, carefully, she refused to look at the plastic shunts set deeply in the veins of his left arm. Instead she focused her eyes on the powerful flex of the muscles in his chest, the powerful column of his neck, the hot avid interest in his dark brown eyes. She ignored the fact that his torso had lost much of its strength and firmness, that the muscles were slowly and inevitably losing their tone under the ceaseless assault of the disease.
Fortunately, his cock had lost none of its impatient, powerful thrust.
Judy’s jaw knotted at the sight of his sturdy phallus. It swayed heavily, the base buried in a thick, curling mat of pubic hair. The purple head was swollen with need, and the column supporting it pulsed and swelled visibly.
The sight of her husband’s cock, so ready to penetrate her, made Judy lick her lips in excitement. She wanted to move, to get her body stripped and exposed and ready for him, but her muscles were only capable of quivering, so great was her need. Still lying on her back, all she could do was put all her energy into the desperate pleading in her eyes.
She whimpered softly with ecstasy as her nude lover bent over her, his strong experienced fingers opening the buttons of her blouse with deft skill. Slowly, worshipfully, he unbuttoned her blouse from top to bottom, exposing a central stripe of her trim torso. Then he lifted her with one hand on the back of her neck and stripped away her blouse as easily as if he were undressing a baby. Then he let her gently back down on the bed.
His eyes swept from her face, with its sprinkling of freckles across nose and cheeks, down to the pale mounds of her breasts. Her nipples, small and pink, jutted up sharply, demandingly. The muscles in her flat stomach rippled and shivered eagerly.
There was no shaking or trembling in Mark’s hands as he reached for the snap, and fly front, of her shorts. She felt her pants loosen, felt cool air touch her bare skin. When his hands gripped her shorts, she lifted her hips clear of the bed.
Mark paused. His heart was hammering as he studied Judy’s nearly nude body. Her skin was golden tan where the sun had touched her, pale white where it hadn’t. The tops of her breasts were sprinkled with a delicate pattern of freckles that made the paleness of her unexposed flesh seem even whiter. The white raciness of her bikini panties glowed against the even tan of her flat tummy and gracefully slender thighs. Through the flimsy white fabric Mark could see the dark, exciting shadow of her pubic triangle. Reaching down, he hooked his fingers into the elastic of her panties.
Judy lifted her hips again, and felt the elastic of her underpants cut into the firm flesh of her ass. She felt her panties sliding downward, felt cool air caress her more and more intimately. Then Mark was whipping the panties down and off her legs and she was kicking her feet free of them.
She was naked. She posed – arched her back gently, sucked her stomach in. One leg was bent, the other straight, doing nothing to conceal her sex.
“Dear God!” Mark whispered as he lowered himself onto her. His hands gripped her shoulders with desperate urgent, bruising need.
Judy felt his weight come down on her and let the wind blast from her lungs with relief and satisfaction. Twisting her head so her mouth met his, she clutched at him with the same desperation with which he was holding her. Bare skin slid against bare skin with a hot, satiny softness that was broken and emphasized by the scratch of harsh body hair.
Judy rolled her hips toward Mark’s. Spreading her legs, she clasped one of his strong hairy thighs between hers, pressing the hot nest of her pussy against his hard muscle. She felt the hot shaft of his erect prick pressing against her soft flesh. Slipping one slender hand between them, she curled her fingers around the rock-hard, engorged cylinder of his cock. She squeezed it to reassure herself of its reality, its power, and its hardness.
Mark’s hand slid down Judy’s side and she rolled back on her back. She let her legs slide open to expose the heart of her sex. His hand scraped over the tender expanse of her stomach, pressed the curls of her pubic bush flat and entered the moist folds of her pussy. One big finger slid into her hot, oozing nest, probed into the salivating hole of her vagina.
Mark was being torn apart. Judy’s body, so small and graceful and young, seemed to beg to be treated roughly. But, afraid of his own strength, he fought to temper his caresses with tenderness. But he knew that in the end, their animal instincts would have them both clawing at each other. Her small frame and lithe, gymnastics-trained muscles could almost match his sturdy body and powerful muscles thrust for thrust.
Hooking his finger in her hot, wet, slick vagina, he pulled upward against her pubic arch, crushing her clitoris with his palm. He felt her fingers tighten convulsively around his prick and milk the hard cylinder with a steely almost masculine strength acquired on the uneven parallel bars.
Judy rolled her head from side to side as wave after wave of pleasure washed through her. The hot bar of Mark’s cock in her hand was ready and eager. She licked lips that were suddenly, perversely, hot and dry – although her mouth was watering with a primitive appetite.
Deliberately, she remained on her back, battling the urge to turn on Mark and engulf his body with hers. She loved tormenting herself, loved the feel of a finger hooked in her pussy, loved the hard pressure of his body alongside hers, loved the touch of cool air on the inflamed tips of her breasts.
Her well-rounded hips began to roll and twist with her steadily increasing need. She scrubbed the wiry bush of her pussy against his invading hand. The muscles on the insides of her thighs were quivering.
Her breathing was ragged and uneven as her rib cage and diaphragm lost coordination and began battling each other.
The finger hooked deep in her slick channel was too little to do more than inflame her. The muscles of her vagina clenched and squeezed but Mark’s probe was too slender to grip tightly. With a soft whimper of need, Judy tugged on Mark’s monster erection, trying to pull it in the direction of her ravenously hungry pussy. Her slender body was spread wide, was dying to have his full weight grinding it down into the mattress.
Mark slid his body over hers and Judy twisted her head. Her mouth was seeking his, was sucking hungrily. As his bulk covered her, she reamed her tongue hungrily around in his mouth. He pulled his hand from her crotch and clutched her. He was smearing her pale skin with her own secretions as his strong fingers dug into her ribs. Where once she had been ticklish as a child, now, as a woman, a light touch sent waves of lust flaming through her writhing, squirming body.
Ignoring the crushing weight that ground her wrist into her pubic area, Judy guided the head of Mark’s cock to the hot, dripping funnel of her sex. Only after she had nestled the big, round knob of his phallus at the entrance to her did she pull her hand out from between them. Her fingers were sticky and slippery with Mark’s slimy secretions. She smeared his back with his fluids as she hugged him to her.
When Mark thrust the demanding, hot, hard bulk of his cock into her the air gusted from Judy’s lungs. It felt so good to have a huge mass filling her pussy. She moved, impatient to have the entire bulk in her at once. Mark was working his organ into her socket slowly, tantalizingly, gradually stretching her tight clinging velvety walls with his engorged prick.
He loved the feel of her body engulfing his shaft. Her vagina was tight and soft, velvety and slick and hot. She felt small and vulnerable under him. Her skin was satiny smooth against his. Her clawing at his back was urging him on. As more and more of his cock felt the hot clinging embrace of her vagina, his lust soared higher and higher and higher.
When his cock was jammed completely into her, Mark paused. Pushing up off of her, he looked down at her. Her nipples were hard and sharp. His eyes traveled down to where his groin met hers, where his pubic hair tangled and mingled with hers. He drew his cock out of her, watched it slide into view. It was shining and wet. He thrust back into her, deep into her, watching his cock as it slowly vanished, a monstrous, spitting lance thrusting deep into her.
“Oh, Mark,” Judy sighed. “Oh, fuck me, Mark, fuck me. Hard.”
Mark drew back and rammed at her, hard, and Judy’s lust soared as the monster phallus slammed against the end of her vagina. Her clit cracked in a haze of pleasure as his pubic arch smashed it.
When he lowered his weight on her she hugged him desperately, hungrily.
Her hips surged and heaved in opposition to his every thrust, increasing the force and speed with which his towering phallus entered her hungry body. Bucking wildly under him, using the rebounding springs of the bed to increase the violence of their collisions, she dug her fingers into his powerful muscles, thrusting aside the sour memory of how much more powerful those muscles had been before disease had ravaged his kidneys.
Had he wanted to, Mark could have wrapped his arms around Judy’s slender body and squeezed her ribs until they cracked. Instead, he hooked his arms under her shoulders, and gripped the sides of her head in his still powerful hands. His teeth clashed with hers as he tried to devour her. He rutted his cock into her with driving, pounding heaves.
He ignored the exhaustion that was already eating away at him.
Impatient, desperate to raise her to her peak before his strength gave out, he rammed at her quickly, sharply. His own climax was drawing close, a hot, itching ball of fire that would erupt from his prick in blazing pulses. Every pumping drive of his hips lifted him one notch closer to the fiery convulsion of completion. The nerves of his cock became more and more sensitive, more and more inflamed as he pistoned it in the velvety, gripping well.
Judy’s hips were twisting and jerking mindlessly. Her pelvis rocked, twisted, wringing her clit between his pubic bone and hers.
“Aww,” she gasped. “Awwww, I’m cumming. Awww, let me have it. Have it.
Have it. Aww, aaww, aw-aw-aw-aw-awwww.”
Judy’s slender body arched in a muscle-straining, joint-popping heave as her orgasm roared through her in a tidal wave of fiery pleasure.
Mark rammed deep into her, thrusting hard, trying to bore his cock completely into her.
Judy felt his cock pulsing deep inside her. Hot jolts of semen spattered the end of her vagina as his cock spewed forth its copious load. As her burning pleasure slowly faded to a delicious, aching memory, Judy milked his prick with her vagina. She clung to him, happily engulfed in his strong, masculine aroma.
The rigidity in his muscles departed abruptly. He was panting with exhaustion as he lay on top of her. He was completely limp. Judy cuddled his wasted body tenderly, fighting back her tears of fear and sorrow. At one time a session such as this would have been only a prelude to an insane night of lovemaking. At one time, both of them would have considered it a “quickie”. But now it was an ordeal, as exhausting as it was fulfilling, and always left Mark bone weary and panting, burned out with exhaustion.
Judy held onto her lover desperately. She felt him start to roll off her and tightened her grip on him. He didn’t understand, he had never understood, just how good it felt to have his full weight on her. He had always been afraid he was too heavy for her. No matter how often she told him, he couldn’t believe she loved the desperate effort it took just to breathe when he was crushing her. And now, with her very life with him threatened, her determination to hold onto him, to keep his body on top of hers, to keep his cock in her vagina, was even greater.
She tightened her arms around him in an iron grip. She hooked her legs around his and clung to him desperately.
Judy blinked against the glare of the bright sunlight, then put on her dark glasses. She tried not to look at the unkempt lawn with its shaggy tussocks of grass and bobbing heads of dandelions going to seed. When it literally came down to a matter of life and death, a well-tended lawn was unimportant.
Her short skirt whipped around her bare thighs as she went briskly down the walk. She focused her mind entirely on the problem ahead of her.
Her life had been reduced to hard-core basics. Everything she did, and everything Mark did, was aimed at one goal – keeping him alive for another day, or week, or month, or, God willing, possibly a year or more.
One by one their avenues of escape had been cut off. It was almost as if some evil entity were thwarting them. When the disease had first attacked Mark’s kidneys, there had been the possibility that the damage could be stopped before it went too far. When that hadn’t happened, the doctors had mentioned the possibility that perhaps the damage wouldn’t be permanent, that some fragments of those vital organs would regenerate and resume filtering the poisons out of his bloodstream.
That hope had proved as false as the first. Mark’s kidneys were gone, destroyed, totally incapable of performing their task.
For a time there had been the artificial kidney at the hospital. Hooked up to a stainless steel tank the size of a washing machine, Mark could survive. And his fate had been placed in the hands of The Committee.
The cost of an artificial kidney meant that there could never be enough to serve all the patients who needed one. Some would live and some would die, and The Committee sat in judgment, playing God, deciding who was to receive the life-giving treatments and who wasn’t.
In the end the bitter decision was that Mark was to be taken off. No reasons were given. Reasons were never given. Even the names of the people serving on The Committee were kept secret to protect them from pleading or harassment or bribery by desperate patients and families.
Since Mark and Judy couldn’t afford a kidney machine, they had only one faint hope left. It was one of the factors considered by The Committee.
The higher the possibility of a transplant being made, the more likely the patient was to get time on the kidney machine. But in Mark’s case, the possibility of an acceptable transplant becoming available was minuscule. He possessed one of the rarest blood types, and had no living blood relatives. There seemed almost no chance that tissues could be matched closely enough to prevent rejection of a foreign organ.
It meant, for the rest of his life, being a slave to a machine that could filter his blood. And the dialysis unit at the hospital was available to him only a few more times, would give him only a few precious weeks of life.
Before then, they had to find some other solution. The only one left was a home dialysis unit, a machine like the hospital’s, but of their own.
That was their final hope, and Judy was determined not to let it slip from their grasp. Somewhere, somehow, some way she had to come up with the money to buy the artificial kidney. Time was getting short. Mark had lost his job because of his increasing absences. It was all up to her.
Squaring her shoulders, she arranged a pillow on the back of the seat so she could reach the pedals, and slid behind the wheel of the shabby old car, ignoring the sharp point of the spring protruding from the frayed upholstery. In front of her, the needle of the speedometer stood stubbornly between the 30 and the 40. The bright sunlight seemed to be swallowed up by the dulled, rust-mottled hood.
With no skills and no training, Judy had been forced to struggle from one job to another. When it had become obvious that she was going to be the sole support for them, and the only possible source of money for the kidney machine, she had looked for a job where there was a possibility of earning a large amount of money rapidly. By working as a go-go dancer in the evenings, and going to classes during the day, she had managed to get a Real Estate Agent’s license. A few small sales had freed her from her distasteful evening job – just in time. Since business was bad, the owner of the night spot had been threatening to go topless and bottomless and have his dancers wait on tables that way.
It wasn’t that Judy was ashamed of her body. Quite the opposite. She had always been proud of her petite figure. Barely five feet tall and never having gone over a hundred pounds, she was neat and trim, almost childish in shape. Gymnastics had hardened her and molded her into a series of trim, graceful curves, and sexual maturity had rounded her hips and filled out her breasts to graceful, feminine mounds. Judy had known that the bar was being dragged down into a seamy, sleazy twilight area between the legal and the illegal. Sooner or later the “table tending” was certain to have degenerated to “entertaining” the customers, first witn friendly conversation while their horny glances feasted on her, then physical contact, a reaching patting hand that wasn’t to be discouraged. Eventually, it would have wound up in one of the back rooms.
Judy had quit as soon as she could.
But since those early successes, the real estate business had deteriorated. As the end of Mark’s time on the kidney machine drew closer and closer, the listings of houses to be sold had fallen off.
Just living had cut deeper and deeper into the painfully small, desperately accumulated savings.
Judy finally managed to get the car started. The inside fittings – door handles and window cranks, rear view mirror, everything – rattled.
Carefully, she moved the shift lever to drive and eased the accelerator down. The decrepit automatic transmission lurched quickly through its repertoire until it reached high. As she pulled away from the curb, Judy could see the thick fog of oil smoke hanging in the air behind her.
So, Judy thought, she was now down to one last desperate gamble to keep Mark alive. She knew of a house, a mansion, really an estate, that might, just might, be going up for sale. If she succeeded in getting the owner to list it with her, she had a possible buyer for it.
She needed to get the listing, and make the sale. If she could pull it off, the commission would be enough to get a kidney machine. Nothing else mattered but the life-giving machine.
Hot gusts of air puffed through the hole in the rusted fire wall separating Judy from the engine and swirled up under her short skirt, bringing with it heat and the stink of burning oil. The hot blasts warmed the insides of her bare thighs, touched the crotch of her panties. As she drove toward the home of her potential client, she was desperate. The potential buyer was losing faith in her, threatening to go to some other agent to find the kind of house he wanted. Judy knew this estate wasn’t exactly what the buyer wanted, but was desperately hoping she could convince him. But first she had to get the owner to decide to sell, and to decide to give her the listing.